


Would it really kill you if we kissed?

by theirblinggirl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Eita also generally swears a lot, Eita swears to Merlin and is out to destroy balls, Kenjirou is a little shit, M/M, Mentions of underage drinking, Quidditch, Rated for swearing, also Valentine's Ball is a thing here, also non-descibed sports-related injuries, and dumb teenage boys being dumb, cameos from OCs, frenemies to lovers, haikyuu valentine exchange 2018, just some excitement and some humour and some fluff, no real angst or drama, shiratorizawa lovefest, the rest of the team are done(TM) with these two, wakatoshi is just here to play quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 22:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirblinggirl/pseuds/theirblinggirl
Summary: "Here was the thing that made pretty much everything infinitely more complicated: Eita Semi liked Kenjirou Shirabu an awful lot.Now this wasn’t a well-kept secret in any way, shape, or form. In fact, it wasn’t even a half-hidden, half-known secret, definitely not something that Eita spent any conscious effort in keeping to himself. On the contrary, by the standard of most truths concerning the affections of teenage witches and wizards at Hogwarts, or ‘crushes’, if you will; it was a fact expected to be well-known by most friends and associates, and Eita did not particularly mind this."Or in which mostly internal monologues, Hogsmeade trips and Quidditch happen, bros are being bros but also quite gay; Eita finally runs out of shits to give; Kenjirou Swears He Totally Does Not Care About Eita At All, Hayato takes bets and Reon would very much like it if they could just get over this on their own, Tsutomu and Wakatoshi are just here to play Quidditch and Satori and Taichi are having the time of their lives.





	Would it really kill you if we kissed?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (belated) Valentine's day to puff on tumblr~~ It may not be what you expected (I'm sorry I haven't actually read the mangas yet so I couldn't include all your Inarizaki and Itachiyama bois as I didn't want to mischaracterise or even worse mis-sort them!!), but I do hope you like having some Shiratorizawa feels and that you'll like it! <3  
> Aesthetic moodboards to go with the fic: [Kenjirou](http://himchankimchije.tumblr.com/post/170896595972/nayoungnoona-hp-au-kenji-a-little-something-to) and [Eita](http://himchankimchije.tumblr.com/post/170896658032/nayoungnoona-hp-au-eita-another-little) (Pssst, they're mirrored ;))  
> Edit: find some fanart linked in the end notes:)
> 
> Title from Halsey's 'Drive' (otl im horrible at titling stuff) HAPPY READING Y'ALL~

 

When his quill snapped in half for the fourth time, Eita finally accepted that he wasn’t going to get any more homework done tonight. Christmas break school work had to be a violation of basic student rights, anyways, so his Muggle Studies professor could just go ahead and suck his 3 feet long essay on this whole Internet stuff.

Of course, he could’ve just asked any of his muggle-born friends for help, as tonight was the last night before school started again, and everyone else that did not share his misfortune of having to return to Hogwarts a day earlier would be arriving back soon. Or maybe, supplied an annoying, tiny voice in the back of his head, he could’ve just walked down to the basement and ask the one friend that both never even left for the break and was, also, conveniently well-aware of muggle technology. But there was no way in freaking Hell that Eita was going to ask Kenjirou for help, he argued with himself, his muttering loud and his sanity questionable in the silence of the empty common room. He’d just have to wait for Tsutomu or Hayato. He’d even help with their Dark Arts homework, he reasoned. After all, there was absolutely no way that Hayato so much as touched schoolwork over the holidays.

But as much as he tried to focus on the entertaining thought of Hayato panicking over having to pull an all-nighter, Eita could not stop his thoughts from wandering off, much the same way that they had been lately. Especially since yesterday, when he got back and found out that Kenjirou spent Christmas at the castle, and had the genius, groundbreaking, and quite sudden idea to spend the day together after lunch. They were friends, after all, he reassured himself before he turned to Kenjirou out of the blue, acting very nonchalant. Kenjirou must have been bored out of his damn mind for two weeks without any enjoyable company, such as Eita himself. They should’ve been capable of spending one single, uncomplicated, no-strings-attached day together, hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, drink some hot chocolate, toss some snowballs around and maybe poke at some nonexistent ghosts at the Shrieking Shack.

Which was pretty much how they spent the day, in the end. All of that, and an unusually low amount of bickering, which would’ve surprised Eita if he weren’t so preoccupied with contemplating whether or not the whole story would have to be classified as a date.

Here was the thing that made not only this unforeseen little afternoon, but pretty much everything infinitely more complicated: Eita Semi liked Kenjirou Shirabu an awful lot.

Now this wasn’t a well-kept secret in any way, shape, or form. In fact, it wasn’t even a half-hidden, half-known secret, definitely not something that Eita spent any conscious effort in keeping to himself. On the contrary, by the standard of most truths concerning the affections of teenage witches and wizards at Hogwarts, or ‘crushes’, if you will; it was a fact expected to be well-known by most friends and associates, and Eita did not particularly mind this. Not unless it was Satori teasing him about it, but Satori’s teasing was known to be able to get a raise out of even the most stoic and patient individuals (also known as Wakatoshi Ushijima). Satori was skillfully cruel like that.

Eita liked Kenjirou, and he never intended to keep that a secret, but if Satori was skillful in finding the best ways to tease people, then Kenjirou was the goddamn best at specifically driving Eita up the wall. All the walls, on the bad days, which was no small feat considering the ever-changing number of walls that the Hogwarts castle possessed, a skill which made it quite complicated for Eita to act on, or even just subtly hint at, his affections in any conceivable way. And seeing how Kenjirou reveled in making Eita lose his mind, likely in a calculated and purposeful and not at all romantic fashion, he guessed that his affections wouldn’t be particularly well-received either, so he didn’t push. A commendable tactic requiring minimal effort on most days. Except for the early mornings with joint breakfast before Quidditch practices where Kenjirou would silently sit with a steaming mug in his hands and the soft haze of sleep in his eyes, and sort of just zone out at Eita’s general direction; the coldest days of winter where he’d hide his entire face behind gigantic, fluffy scarves donated to him by Taichi and Wakatoshi and sometimes even Eita, and pout at the weather like glaring daggers at the steel blue winter sky would somehow up the temperature a few notches. And maybe it did, because there were not many people, creatures or things that could resist the icy death glare of Shirabu Kenjirou. Eita prided himself in being one of them, but more often than not, he had to admit to himself that he was experiencing more and more close calls.

But other than the times where Kenjirou decided to be uncharacteristically sweet and nice and in general, very, very likeable (like yesterday), Eita had more than enough other things to worry about.

He was in his seventh year at Hogwarts, which meant he was supposed to think about graduation and career, a problem that he dutifully ignored at every given opportunity, but one which managed to give him enough sleepless nights nonetheless. Aside from that, the Quidditch season was still on in full force, and expectations were high for the Gryffindor team, more so specifically for Eita, who’d been moved from his regular position of Beater to Seeker after the graduation of their previous Seeker.

If there was one more thing you needed to know about Eita Semi, it was this: he absolutely loved being a Beater. Flying several feet up in the air, wind in his face and bat in his hands, zigzagging between teammates, the heavy swoosh of his bat and the deep thunk as it connected to the Bludger - the thrill of danger, the only real danger you could get out of a Quidditch match, and the triumph of every single successful hit, every Bludger diverted and teammate protected… Eita lived for it. For those few hours he was out in the pitch, they were all in his care, single-minded and grumpy Wakatoshi just as much as tiny and overexcitable Janine, all under his protection, all trusting him completely and sometimes quite literally blindly, as Bludgers tended to come from angles you least expected them.

Eita was their ever vigilant guardian angel, he was the safety net under their feet. He was relied upon, he was important and powerful and irreplaceable.

Until one day, he wasn’t. Nina graduated and left a gaping hole in their line, and none of the new recruits were as quick in reaction or as eagle-eyed as Eita.

When Wakatoshi told him he was switching his position, Eita nodded and said that he understood, and then he hid behind the Quidditch pitch and tore up his entire uniform, not even with hexes but with his bare, shaking hands.

He did not fix it until two days later, when Wakatoshi said that he was sorry but it was for the team, and that if Eita did not want to, they could always look for other options.

He wasn’t, and it was, and they couldn’t, but Eita appreciated him trying nonetheless, and went about to read up all on being a Seeker because he wasn’t going to let his friends down. 

The thing about being a Seeker was that it seemed like a very solitary position. Quidditch was technically a team sport, and Beaters especially had to be aware of all players at all times, and while this awareness was useful for a Seeker, they always had to be where the others weren’t. While everyone else was off playing the game together, the Seeker flew alone, never having eyes for anything but the tiny sliver of gold of the Snitch and maybe the rival Seeker. It went against everything that Eita played for before. Setting himself apart from his teammates, carrying the high chance of winning on his own shoulders alone, Eita slowly started to find himself again in this new independence as practice proceeded. He just wasn’t sure he knew, or particularly liked who he was alone and not in relation to his friends.

Now Kenjirou, he was a different matter altogether. He played Seeker on the Slytherin team and he was, as far as Eita could tell, amazing at it. Either that, or he just had more practice, not having just switched positions. Possibly both.

Of course Eita tried to get Kenjirou to teach him a few tricks - they were supposed to be friends first and rivals second. A concept which worked seamlessly with Wakatoshi and Satori, and by proxy, mostly for their other friends as well.

Eita knew that some of the team, or their housemates for that matter, didn’t exactly understand why they hung out with Slytherins, but to Eita, Satori and Taichi and Kenjirou have become an indisputable fact of life, whether he liked it or not.

Most days he did. Satori was the craziest guy he knew, both in the sense of a compliment and a curse, but he knew how to turn the most mundane Saturday afternoon into the coolest party, plus he was vibrant and energetic and loud enough to carry a whole, mind-blowing conversation all on his own. Taichi was just the easiest person to talk to, he listened to everything you had to say and offered overly useful, if morally questionable advice, and made out with you if both of you were drunk enough, without ever making it awkward; and Kenjirou… well, Kenjirou was a proud, annoying, beautiful little shit, but he also knew how to be charming if he wanted to (if Wakatoshi was around), and he learned the most ridiculous or rare spells just for the heck of it, and he had the snarkiest, most intelligent jokes. Eita was often enchanted by the easiness with which Kenjirou switched between his polite smile and soft, reassuring voice in front of a teacher and then turned that smile around into something youthful and sly the second they turned away. No one was safe from Kenjirou, not even his friends, but if this was the price of the endless entertainment they got from nobody else ever quite understanding when they were being made fun of for being stupid, then it was a price they were all willing to pay.

Spending an entire day with him was a new and exhilarating experience which did nothing to smother the sparks that were threatening to set Eita’s hopes and dreams aflame once again. Kenjirou had been, for the lack of a better word, amazing. He laughed, with Eita and not at him, he bought them the biggest peppermint candies that Honeydukes had to offer, and as the sun began to set, he charmed a couple of icicles to sparkle and sparr above their heads as they walked back to Hogwarts. At one point during the day, being the considerate friend (and coincidentally his warm-blooded, weather-indifferent self) that he was, Eita dutifully wrapped his own red-and-golden scarf around Kenjirou’s green-and-grey one, and that ridiculous Slytherin idiot honest to Merlin blushed, hiding his cheeks behind multiple layers of cotton. He still hadn’t given it back either.

Just as Eita was about to give in and march down to the basement to find Kenjirou, and question him why he’d been so nice that day, or at least to get his scarf back, the door to the common room flew open, letting in a host of excitedly chatting Gryffindor students, accompanied by the indignant scolding of the Fat Lady from outside.

Leading the rowdy group with a giant, bright grin was Hayato, fellow seventh year and Beater Extraordinaire, who strode straight up to Eita sitting in his armchair, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him up into a big, bone-cracking hug.

Wakatoshi and Tsutomu weren’t far behind, the latter excitedly trailing behind the former and chirping away into his ear, as he did most of the time. Wakatoshi, to his credit, was extremely patient when it came to Tsutomu’s obvious and borderline religious adoration of him, which could probably be attributed equal parts to the fifth year boy’s undisputable talents at Quidditch and Wakatoshi’s lack of care for the general rules and norms of social interaction.

Eita hugged Hayato back, high-fived Wakatoshi with a grand smile and ruffled Tsutomu’s hair, holding him by his neck until the kid managed to fight himself free. He’d missed these idiots, he thought, and he couldn’t wait to see the rest of his friends tomorrow.

‘So I hear someone went on a date while the rest of us were wasting away in the loving care of our families’ Hayato leaned into Eita’s bedspace later, when everyone was back in the seventh year bedroom, unpacking and exchanging stories of Christmas presents. He was holding onto a bedpost with one hand and laughing wholeheartedly at Eita’s annoyed sigh. Not like he cared, but Eita still looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention - they weren’t, of course.

‘Fucking Reon. I told him not to tell anyone. How did he even…? It was only yesterday! And it wasn’t a date. You could’ve been there, or Wakatoshi. Would’ve been the same…’ he scoffed, throwing a pillow into Hayato’s face. It was no use, as he still plopped down onto Eita’s bed, even though his own, still perfectly made one was only about two steps away. Eita contemplated shoving him off.

‘Phones, dude. We both got phones. You know, that muggle thing you use to real-time talk to anyone you want?’ Hayato raised a mocking brow, and Eita promptly toppled him off the bed with his foot. Of course he fucking knew what a phone was, damnit. Just because he didn’t trust those little sleek “smart” rectangle motherfuckers like he would trust a good, fluffy and actually intelligent owl didn’t mean he didn’t know what they were.

Hayato fell with an indignant squeak but he burst out laughing as soon as his sorry butt touched down. Wakatoshi shot a mildly confused look at them from where he was unpacking his books (who even brings their books home for the Holidays?), before continuing, and Eita felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to smack his tormented-friend-ignoring-head with at least another pillow, if nothing harder. He definitely wasn’t one to deny himself of most such urges, so he lifted his wand to do just that, levitating a big, fat pillow right into the back of Wakatoshi’s head, before raising a satisfied brow at Hayato, as if to say “see what happens if you make me angry?”. Wakatoshi didn’t even turn this time, and Hayato only laughed harder. Eita wondered if it was too late to switch houses… he couldn’t go to Hufflepuff now, not after Reon’s dirty betrayal of that letter that he might or might not have sent in a complete panic after his not-date with Kenjirou, but he would wager the Miya twins could always use a great guy like himself on the Ravenclaw team. 

~*~

He was still fuming about it the next day, not managing to pay much actual attention to his first class, but looking forward to Herbology in the afternoon. He’d briefly seen (and hugged and in Reon’s case, gently slapped) Reon and the others at breakfast, not even realizing he was holding his breath mentally until he’d confirmed all of his friends were back with his own eyes – Taichi with a delicious fucking tan, that pretentious, Christmas-holidaying-at-the-Bahamas snob, Satori with bright smiles and ridiculous, made-up stories for Kenjirou about meeting the Loch Ness monster, because he knew that Kenjirou’s zoologist and magizoologist mothers had briefly studied the creature and forced him to read their paper on the actual truth in Muggle myth about it; and about getting into two separate fights with muggle teens for the rest of them. And finally Reon with a ton of homemade cookies from his mom for everyone. Reon’s mother’s cookies were so good they were known for making grown men cry, and Eita was secretly quite proud, and openly grateful for Reon’s attempts at recreating her recipes.

During Herbology, Eita was free to take his place next to Reon and a pile of juvenile flesh-eating mushrooms that they were supposed to be feeding that day - hopefully not with their own flesh and blood, but you could never know in N.E.W.T-level Herbology.

’Why’d you have to tell Hayato’ Eita hissed at him after a soft fistbump made only softer by the heavy-duty protective gloves. Reon seemed completely indifferent to his very rightful anger.

’Because I’ve got five galleons riding on it’ he simply answered, pretending to take notes.

’You’ve bet on me?’ Eita whisper-gasped, summoning all of his willpower not to smile at Reon’s utterly confused frown.

’What? Of course we did. Have you seen Hayato not bet on something like this? He bets on every Quidditch game. He bets on the number of people confessing to Wakatoshi per month. He lost two weeks of allowance betting on Tsutomu trying to ask Wakatoshi, and then Taichi out! He bet on someone trying to punch Satori a week into the school year... I keep telling him he’s got a problem, but he just won’t listen’ Reon sighed, and for a moment, Eita almost mistook his expression for one of actual concern, before they both broke out in matching grins.

’Fair enough. I was in on the Tsutomu pool anyways’ he shrugged, weighing the pros and cons of further discussion, knowing that Reon was probably the only person who’d listen to him, understand his concerns, give genuinely helpful advice, and keep the things Eita truly wanted to keep private to himself, and never use it against Eita in some pity fight or something later. Reon was just a nice person like that.

’It really wasn’t a date, tho. You would’ve gone with him the same. He was alone all Christmas, and you know him, he probably spent it holed up with his books or terrorizing pixies with test-phase spells or over-exerting himself practicing Quidditch. He needed some fun, and I was being a good friend. I’m sure that’s why he was... more normal than usual. Nicer...’

’I’d like to direct your attention to the fact that Kenjirou is usually pretty nice, or at least civil, to everyone except you’ Reon shook his head gently.

’Because he’s a little fuck!’ Eita shot back, forgetting himself and where he was for a moment, which resulted in disapproving shushing from close-by students and fungi alike before he could continue.

’No, seriously, I don’t get what his problem is. He’d been... fuck, Reon, if you tell this to anyone I’ll honest to Merlin hex your balls off, but he’d actually been cute! Like, he fucking giggled! Have you ever heard Kenjirou giggle? It’s like it turns him into a completely different person! A sweet and soft and lovely and... dammit, I’m so fucked, man’ Eita exhaled, letting himself collapse onto the desk in a grand gesture of utter defeat. A mushroom crept closer to his thus exposed ear, but Reon swatted it away.

’Yup’ Reon nodded, patting his friend on the back sympathetically. ’Why don’t you just ask him out then? On a real date?’

‘What are you, insane? He hates me… escapes me why, but he hates me and always manages to make me shout at him. He can’t be not doing that on purpose…’

‘And Satori makes people want to punch him on purpose. So what? He’s got his reasons, but if this… not-date was as good as you say, then maybe you should consider doing something about it.’

‘I am doing something about it! I’m talking to you!’

‘Because I’m the unchallenged champion of love-life advice. You seriously should’ve just gone to Taichi, man…’ Reon rolled his eyes, but even then he failed to look properly annoyed. That just wasn’t something he really did. ‘But here’s my advice then: go ask him out. See what happens.’

‘Yeah no I think I’ll pass’ Eita shrugged. Reon refused to talk to him for the rest of the class, but Eita was more or less fine now. He probably needed to get it out of his system more than he needed actual advice that he wouldn’t have heeded, anyways. And now that he said it, now that it was out in the open, he felt far less idiotic for daydreaming about it for the rest of the class, too. He probably wasn’t going to ask Kenjirou out, because nobody needed that kind of drama, but it felt nice to think on the what ifs, the possibilities, the way laughter forced its way past Kenjirou’s lips because of something Eita said, or the way his hips swayed with each of his purposeful steps down the hallways. The way gentle sunlight seemed to reflect on his stupid, shiny hair even when the actual Sun was nowhere to be seen, and the way his delicate fingers fiddled with his wand whenever he tried not to seem nervous, setting off tiny rainbow sparks, both at the tip of the wand and inside Eita’s veins.

With this realization, this sudden clarity on this long-long dilemma, Eita felt strangely free. He didn’t actually have to do anything. He could just enjoy things as they were, and enjoy his last semester with Kenjirou, letting go of the frustration of sometimes not understanding him at all. He understood enough about him in regards of everything else, anyways. Eita supposed both him and Kenjirou had their own reasons, and he only needed to know his owns. What Kenjirou actually wanted or didn’t want was his business, and he would never hesitate to tell Eita to keep the fuck out of it if he was intruding. 

Just because Kenjirou didn’t actually reciprocate Eita’s interests did not mean that everything was over. Just because nothing more would ever come of it did not mean that Eita couldn’t enjoy it for what it already was - little drops of his stomach when he heard his laugh before he turned the corner, warm buzzing of his skin when they accidentally touched, a thousand little lightings boiling and electrifying his blood as they shouted carefully practiced obscenities at each other and then seeing nothing but the angry move of his plush lips in the darkness of his bed at night.

Just because it was only a silly little crush did not mean that it wasn’t a ridiculously self-indulgent part of being young and foolish and that Eita shouldn’t make the best out of it. 

~*~ 

School was back at large for almost a month now, and Kenjirou felt immensely grateful for it. He only had a year and a half left at Hogwarts, and there was so much left that he needed to learn and to figure out. With the library and Quidditch pitch open during winter break, he didn’t really have time to be bored, but there was only so many maneuvers you could practice without pointers from someone, and besides, Kenjirou started to feel like professional Quidditch just wouldn’t be his endgame after all. As good as he strived to be, the world of magic was just so full of bigger, more important opportunities, there were so many more spells to learn and to develop, potions to brew, options to explore. Coming to Hogwarts at the age of eleven with a mostly muggle upbringing, Kenjirou felt like he’d never get enough of its ancient, mind-bending, overwhelming power and magic, and that he’d forever be content just observing and contributing, leaving nothing but the ghost of his presence behind in the dark hallways of his House. Now, six years later, he still felt like he didn’t understand half of what was going on between these walls, but after the countless points he’d gotten for Slytherin, the long nights spent studying that all amounted to pretty much nothing, he no longer felt the need to understand everything. All that remained was the drive to leave his mark, to make himself count, to be wherever he chose to be, regardless of what others might have wanted for him, and to move on to things bigger still.

Having his fellow students and the teachers around helped, although he sometimes questioned how much further learning from others could take him. And having his friends around helped keep his sanity, although he sometimes questioned how long until he accidentally murdered some of them.

At this moment, on their way to the first Hogsmeade trip of the semester, the most likely candidate for a sudden and violent death was none other than Satori Tendou himself.

‘Ken~jiii~ why the sour faaa~ce?’ he sing-songed as they climbed up the stairwells, heading towards the castle exit. Kenjirou rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to shake Satori’s arm off his shoulder, because he’d just put it back even tighter anyways. And maybe a little bit because Satori’s long, strong arms were amazing and his hugs felt like you’d been embraced by living, boy-smelling sunlight and Kenjirou was not only human, but also a very gay, very weak teenage boy after all.

‘Why the stupid face?’ he replied instead, and Satori giggled, grinning so wide his face was threatening to split in half.

‘Why don’t you keep that for someone who gets off on you insulting him?’ he teased, pretend-whispering into Kenjirou’s ear after looking around theatrically.

‘Let him pout in peace, Satori’ Taichi interrupted, throwing himself into Kenjirou’s other side and reaching behind him to wrap an arm them, effectively trapping Kenjirou between the two.

While Kenjirou had frequent thoughts of murdering his best friends in their sleep, these thoughts were quiet murmurs in the back of his head on most days.

Right now, however, they were a cacophony of angry, exasperated yelling made only worse by the absolute certainty that no one but one person would understand this exact type of annoyance, and Kenjirou had been trying his best to keep himself from thinking about this person in particular.

‘See? He’s cute if you let him be’ Taichi teased as they turned the last corner, continuing their way to their friends gathered in front of the door, with him waving, Kenjirou rolling his eyes some more for good measure, and Satori humming an extremely unique rendition of “Here comes the bride” for some unfathomable reason.

He knew the unwritten law of being called cute, which was that denying it only amplified your - real or perceived - cuteness, so he let them be. And anyhow, they were only seconds away from Satori dissing him in favor of throwing himself across Wakatoshi’s ridiculous shoulders, and for Taichi to pointedly pat him on the back and then leave him in favor of conspiring with Tsutomu and possibly bribing him for gossip with candy. Which would mean them leaving Kenjirou alone to submerge in his thoughts and maybe secretly stare at people in silence. And by people he definitely meant inhumanly attractive Wakatoshi Ushijima and not Eita Semi.

It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with Eita’s stupid mug, actually. In fact, all things considered, it was an above-average face. A downright handsome one, even, with all that untamed, backwards-dyed fluff of hair falling gently into sharp eyes, and a full, chapstick-red mouth with that always contemplating, arrogant smile which made you think that Eita was either simply three steps ahead of you or plain planning your death. If he didn’t know him better, Kenjirou would’ve thought that Eita would make for a wonderful Slytherin.

But he did know, and so he just could not look past the fact that Eita was also honest to the point of stupidity, and preferred his challenges head-on instead of from the back, and that he was the most annoyingly overly caring, overly fussing Mom Friend - by seventeen year old boy standards anyways - the world’s ever seen.

And as much as Kenjirou wanted to, he just couldn’t look past that. He just couldn’t let Eita be, not when he was so easy to rile up, not when he went from zero to a hundred in a second. Not when he got so patronizing and all up in Kenjirou’s business, trying to help solving all kinds of problems, whether they be imagined or real. Kenjirou did not want any of that, most of all from someone who implicitly claimed to have a crush on him. He was fine on his own, he’s always solved his problems on his own, he never needed help from anyone, not his mums, not his teachers, not his friends.

By the age of seven, Kenjirou had been teaching himself magic for a whole year, hiding from his parents, half in fear of being ‘wrong’ somehow, and half in jealousy of anyone finding out and taking away this exceptional thing that he made, he discovered all on his own, before eventually his witch mum found out and they told him about the magic world.

All in all, Kenjirou only ever really needed himself to rely on, and while the knowledge that he could, that it was an option, never left the back alleys of his thoughts, he didn’t really think he needed anyone.

And sadly, or at least mildly inconveniently, Eita was a guy that needed to be needed.

So Kenjirou made sure to be just a bit more rude to him, to mock his enthusiasm and his stupid hair and then pretend that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. That he didn’t want to just grab that idiotic, sharp jaw and pull him down and just….

‘Is there something weird on my face?’ Eita asked, jolting him out of his thoughts. They’d all started walking towards Hogsmeade, breaking into groups of twos and threes, and without Kenjirou realizing, Eita fell into step next to him. Kenjirou, still deep in thought, somehow ended up staring at him more than his own feet like he usually would.

‘Uhm, yeah? Here, uhm, in this… general area?’ he nodded without skipping a beat, smearing his palm across Eita’s entire face with a blank expression.

‘Fuck you!’ Eita shouted indignantly, managing to lick across Kenjirou’s palm in the process.

‘Real mature, Semi, real mature’ Kenjirou scoffed, suppressing a full-body shiver at the contact and wiped his hand down on Eita’s cloak.

‘Yeah well what can I say, you bring the best out of me’ Eita shot back, but his eyes were glinting with mirth. Kenjirou would have to try harder to piss him off today.

‘You haven’t given me my scarf back either. It’s been freezing, walking around in the autumn one’ Eita continued, nudging his shoulder, and Kenjirou groaned inwardly.

‘It hasn’t been that cold, and besides, you don't even need a scarf, you dramaqueen’

‘Ohhh that’s rich, coming from you, Sir “My Extremities Turn Into Icicles And I Into A Whiny Baby Below Five Degrees”...’

‘My body and mind are one delicate system, a temple, if you will. Extreme weather conditions are sand between the cogs…’

‘Delicate my ass’ Eita snorted. And truth be told, it was delicate indeed, but this wasn’t the time nor place for admiring Eita Semi’s fine backside.  

It was the time and place for friendly banter, apparently, and Kenjirou could tell that Eita was carefully avoiding any topics that were likely to get them into a fight, say Quidditch teams or the pros and cons of a muggle upbringing. Without Kenjirou realizing the subtle changes till it was too late, it had become easier and easier to be around him, especially since winter break. It was a sickly satisfying feeling, Eita Semi of all people, holding back and playing nice to keep on Kenjirou’s good side. Kenjirou hated it.

The walk to Hogsmeade felt shorter than ever, as it often happened to time when Eita was around, Kenjirou was starting to realize with dread. They went to Honeydukes first, as they always did, along with pretty much every single Hogwarts student when they visited the town. After stuffing their cloak pockets with bountiful amounts of chocolate and candy, and daring Tsutomu to find out how many Blood-flavoured lollipops he could fit into his mouth before giving (or throwing) up, they all poured out from the busy shop onto the streets to discuss plans.

Satori needed some extra school supplies so him and Wakatoshi left to  Scrivenshaft's with Tsutomu tagging behind, and Reon wanted to get some hat or something for his mum for her birthday. Eita stopped listening to the details after ‘women’s clothing’ was mentioned, so Kenjirou took a deep breath and offered to go along, knowing all too well that there was no way Eita would follow. And he was right - as they made their way down the freshly sweeped sidewalk, he could hear Taichi offering Eita a drink at Madam Puddifoot’s in a dead serious tone, before both of them laughed and also left, possibly heading for the Quidditch shop.

They were all supposed to meet up later at the Three Broomsticks to hang out, but as Kenjirou kept thinking about the last time he’s been in town, and the red-golden scarf he kept stuffed away in his trunk, he kind of felt that he’d rather be looking at women’s hats all day instead.

It was already getting dark outside by the time Kenjirou and Reon arrived to the inn with a gigantic hatbox, tired but triumphant. The others were already gathered around a table with steaming mugs of hot chocolate and cider. As they approached, Hayato pulled closer to Eita, freeing some space up on both sides of the bench, but before Kenjirou could take the one he wanted, Reon plopped down on it with a heavy sigh.

The only free seat remaining was beside Eita, and nobody except for Tsutomu would meet Kenjirou’s eyes. Even he was blushing with guilt so that didn’t really help the whole, incredibly suspicious situation, but Kenjirou wasn’t going to let them rattle him. As if he’d be bothered by sitting next to Eita Semi. As if that hadn’t happened before. As if he cared...

‘Welcome welcome’ Eita greeted nonchalantly as Kenjirou sat down. Stupid conspiracist.

‘I see you haven’t started the party without us’ Kenjirou ignored him, turning to Taichi across the table.

‘We’d never’ Tachi gasped in disbelief, to which Kenjirou could only snort.

‘More like you could never’ he smirked, rolling his tired shoulders as he made himself comfortable in his seat. Without a word, Eita pushed a mug of warm, silky hot chocolate in front of him, and he could tell from a whiff of the heavy steam that there was just a touch of chilli powder in it. Exactly how he liked.

They fell into easy conversation around the table, mostly moaning about classes and schoolwork, which Kenjirou, even with taking the most classes, could not really relate to, but eagerly participated in nonetheless. As Tsutomu was yet to take his O.W.Ls, he became a ball of anxiety wired to blow at the mention of exams, so the seventh years took it upon themselves to reassure him he was going to be okay, mostly detailing how unimportant they were, and how he really only needed to get into any few classes for N.E.W.Ts if he was going pro in Quidditch. Of course Kenjirou couldn’t just sit back and let them ruin the kid’s future like that, and soon it was a heated debate between Satori and Kenjirou about the impact of exams on one’s future regardless of career choice. Wakatoshi, as always, did not take sides.

‘It’s not like he can know at 15 what he’d want to do for the rest of his life!’ Kenjirou rolled his eyes.

‘But I do… I want to play Quidditch forever, just like Wakatoshi’ Tsutomu was gesticulating heavily, almost knocking the mug out of Taichi’s hand next to him. Wakatoshi grabbed his wrists to put them back onto the table gently but firmly.

‘Well, I myself cannot be sure that I will be playing Quidditch forever. That is what I want, yes, but realistically, anything can happen to a person to change the course of his life’ Wakatoshi said with the ghost of a smile, which, in his case, counted as an actual smile in most cases.

‘Except for you, Wa~ka~to~shii, my bestest friend, nothing will ever happen to you’ Satori cut in, leaning into him for a second before looking around with a wide grin, as if to challenge the world to prove him wrong. Kenjirou found that kind of attitude to be generally careless and unnecessarily prompting one’s fate, but he wasn’t going to argue if Satori insisted on playing stupid. Wakatoshi, on the other hand, seemed to disagree, because he flashed a small but full smile at Satori before pushing him back into his seat as well.

‘Now that’s just plain tempting karma and we all know she’s a bitch’ Eita cut in suddenly, answering Satori sticking his tongue out with a loving middle finger of his own.

Kenjirou rolled his eyes, but the conversation carried on, bouncing from topic to topic, joke to joke, and Kenjirou had to admit that he was having a great time, after all.

‘Sooo, who’s going to the Valentine’s Ball this year?’ Hayato asked, to the great amusement of everyone. Even Reon was grinning into his mug.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Taichi said, baffled, speaking most everyone’s minds. Hayato looked affronted by the accusation.

‘Why would I be kidding? It’s on my birthday! I have to go!’ he exclaimed, shooting challenging looks at everyone to see if they would question him again. Nobody took him seriously. But then again, they rarely did.

‘You and what date, Yamagata?’ Kenjirou grinned, but the guy just wasn’t backing down. Kenjirou found the idea of Valentine’s day and especially a Valentine’s Ball overhyped and frankly ridiculous, but it was always good fun to tease Hayato about his many (failed) romantic ventures.

‘I’ll have you know I’ll definitely have a date’ he shot back with a wink that was clearly intended to be mysterious.

‘Ahh, to be young and in love!’ Satori sighed, bringing his hand up to his forehead theatrically, which made everyone burst out in laughter. ‘And, pray tell, who would the lucky lady be?’

‘Nevermind. I’m not telling you guys. You’d just make fun of me. But you’ll see. You’ll all see…’ Hayato huffed, rolling his eyes and pouting.

‘Just because nowadays you worship the ground that this Christine or whoever from Hufflepuff walks on does not mean that she’ll go with you’ Eita laughed again, the trembling of his shoulders jolting Kenjirou as well.

At one point, Eita “casually” draped his arm behind Kenjirou on the back of the bench, and he frowned, but couldn’t find it in himself to tell him off. He wasn’t talking to him but to Hayato and Reon on his right anyways, so it would’ve been awkward to say anything, on the off chance that it really was accidental. Also, surprisingly, it actually felt kind of nice to have Eita’s arm cushioning his neck.

‘Isn’t that Ball right the day after our match against each other?’ Wakatoshi asked, pensive, completely unaware of the mayhem that his simple reminder would start, as beating your friends in a match, especially if your friends included people as over-confident and competitive as Satori and Tsutomu and Wakatoshi, felt even better than beating a random enemy team. Valentine’s Day - and Hayato’s birthday - did actually fall right after the scheduled Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match, so naturally most of both teams’ members were more excited about the upcoming game than some silly, cheesy ball. Or at least Kenjirou thought so, and apparently so did Wakatoshi, which filled him with a little ease. Not everyone’s priorities were completely screwed, then.

The chocolates and ciders were gone now, and so was some butter beer, and it didn’t take long for Hayato and Satori to return from the counter with suggestive smiles and some Fire Whiskey.

Before most of the seventh years turned legal, it had been Kenjirou’s job to ‘use his magic’, which was more like the art of subtle, yet strong persuasion combined with a good amount of angelic smiling, allowing Kenjirou to convince the soft-hearted old witch at the bar to sell them drinks. Of course, it all hinged as much on his friends’ ability to behave as his talent in making elderly ladies bend to his will, but it’s became somewhat of a tradition, with the excitement of breaking the rules highly overshadowing the actual amount of alcohol in one small drink each. Even Wakatoshi participated, which had to mean that it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Still, it used to make them feel wild and rebellious, it was their secret, their little ritual, their pact to keep, and from the first time he pulled it off, it made Kenjirou feel dangerously powerful and unique in a way none of them even tried to challenge.

The memory of those “missions” made Kenjirou giddy as he took a glass and raised it to toast before downing half of it in one quick gulp. It burned his way through his throat, his stomach, all the way down to his feet, and maybe it got to his head right away, maybe he wasn’t thinking straight, or maybe he was just getting tired of letting Eita play his game on him, because just a little later, he turned to look him in the eye and raised the glass with the remaining drink in a silent challenge.

‘What’s up?’ Eita asked, slightly confused and apologetic as he gestured to his already empty glass. Kenjirou sighed, feeling curiously disappointed.

‘Not a Seekers solidarity drink, I guess’ Kenjirou shrugged, putting his glass down, suddenly not feeling so playful anymore.

‘Well all you have to do is ask!’ Eita exclaimed, and before Kenjirou could even process what was going on, Eita shot up, grabbed his hand and strode towards the bar.

‘I’ll get them’ Kenjirou said once they stopped in front of the heavy oak counter, earning a questioning brow from Eita.

‘If I recall correctly, you’re not seventeen yet…’

‘No, but I still got my magic, so I’m buying’ Kenjirou insisted.

‘There are so many ways I could answer to that. But I’m going to choose silence because you’re about to buy me a drink’ Eita raised a provoking brow.

‘First wise decision of your life.’

‘Aaand I’m not retorting to that for the same reason either’ Eita continued, to which Kenjirou couldn’t fight back a small smile.

‘I see you’re getting into character already’ Eita teased when he saw the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, and Kenjirou felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Which was good. Which was how he intended things to be. On purpose. That was how being around Eita was supposed to feel - like a walking punch, like a constant, high-pitched buzz in his ears, like watered-down contempt in each word.

Not soft, and warm, and fuzzy.

They were still holding hands, and Kenjirou yanked his away, turning to face the wall lined with bottles behind the counter.

They didn’t have to wait for much longer to order, and sure enough, Kenjirou’s angelic smile and soft-spoken words got them two drinks that he wasn’t so sure he wanted to share with Eita anymore, but backing out now would’ve been even weirder.

‘To Seekers, then’ he raised his drink once more, and Eita held his gaze as he clinked their glasses together.

‘Yeah, Seeker power’ Eita muttered softly, clearly not thinking about Quidditch. Kenjirou shuddered and dropped his gaze, acutely aware that Eita didn’t.

When they turned to walk back to the table, Eita took his hand again, and while one and a half drinks were not even close to be enough to get him drunk, Kenjirou felt light-headed.

Nobody made a comment as they returned, very wisely - but perhaps also simply because they didn’t really care, because this whole thing really wasn’t as big of a deal as Kenjirou thought. Everything from Eita being nice on purpose to sitting closer than necessary, to holding his hand as they walked, to dropping subtle touches on his shoulder or knee whenever he said something to him, all of this could have been just another good day, just another fun Hogsmeade trip with friends, just another step to them becoming civil. It did not have to mean so much, if Kenjirou didn’t want it to, because clearly Eita was just not giving a shit anymore.

If this was all, if this was something they could keep, Kenjirou thought that he’d be fine with that.

The whiskey in Kenjirou’s system argued that he would be far from fine, but, he reasoned, he would at least be able to pretend for a few more months, and then Eita would be gone.

It did not have to mean anything.

As the last of the Hogwarts students started trickling out from the Inn, Kenjirou and his friends slowly got ready to follow. Snow was falling outside as they exited, thick, fat snowflakes dancing in the street lights as they slowly fluttered down like tiny sailboats on an invisible river. Clouds obscured most of the stars, but Kenjirou still stopped so see if he could spot any, and maybe also to admire the snow some more, before the cold set into his bones and he started hating winter again.

When he looked back around himself, all the others were already a good way ahead down the street. All the others except for Eita, who seemed to be waiting for him patiently, hands in his pockets and an unreadable, faraway expression on his face.

‘What?’ Kenjirou asked quietly, completely failing to sound flippant.

‘Nothing’ Eita shook his head, before changing his mind and continuing. ‘You were smiling. At the snow. You really do smile quite a lot, actually. Just never at me.’

There it was again, the invisible punch to his stomach from before.

‘I’m sure that’s not true’ Kenjirou whispered, not understanding why his throat felt dry and clogged up all of a sudden.

Eita shook his head again in slow, thoughtless movements, and then he huffed as if he suddenly remembered a joke.

‘Whatever’ he said, and then he pulled his hands out of his pockets and grabbed Kenjirou by the lapels of his coat and pulled him in and kissed him.

It wasn’t more than a purposeful but gentle press of his lips against Kenjirou’s chapped ones, it wasn’t more than an inaudible, hot sigh passing between their mouths, it wasn’t more than a few seconds of Eita’s scent and warmth and solid presence overtaking every last one of Kenjirou’s senses. It wasn’t more than one single kiss with barely parted lips, before Eita let him go and turned on his heel to run after the others, but it was enough to leave Kenjirou dumbfounded, frozen on the spot, unable to move or think or feel any parts of his body except for where Eita’s lips touched his own.

It was a good few more seconds before his brain started up again, and he was able to follow everyone else, way too deep in his thoughts to even register the questioning looks they shot him.

Only back in the dormitory, after a scalding shower and buried under four blankets did it occur to him that maybe, just maybe, he was a bit more fucked than he originally thought.

~*~

February 13th greeted the Quidditch-enthusiasts of Hogwarts with unforgiving, cold winds, clear, steel skies and a sudden drop in temperature that was frankly threatening to freeze even Eita to his broomstick.

But as soon as the game started, all thoughts of the weather shrank down to mere technical details in the back of his mind - direction and strength of the wind, visibility and blind spots of the other players. He shot up into the sky for a vantage point, but even as he was trying to locate the Snitch, his mind kept wandering to the other players, analyzing flight patterns, calculating distance and hunting for weakness like an eagle hunts for prey from up above. Old habits die hard. Eita had to keep forcing his eyes to look for the empty air instead of the brunt of the battle, to concentrate on the nooks and hiding spots, to chase Kenjirou endlessly - cursing under his nose every time the other boy outmaneuvered him with a sly smile on his lips, clearly more suited to the graceful, quick flight of a Seeker. Eita grew more and more impatient, more and more angry - he couldn’t see the Snitch, only the edge of Kenjirou’s cloak as it fluttered, right into his face, blinding him and confusing his senses, throwing him off, possibly on purpose. By thirty minutes into the game, Gryffindor was leading 40 to 20, but Eita could have strangled the other boy with his bare hands, and he had yet to see even a glimpse of gold, although he dutifully mirrored every move, each steep dive and crazy turn and stomach-squeezing rise of the Slytherin Seeker.  

He tried to keep tabs on the game, but it went much the same as all other Gryffindor-Slytherin games, with Wakatoshi leading his Chasers in an unstoppable wave of force and Satori mercilessly shutting down each attack against the Slytherin goal posts with a shit-eating grin on his face. Rumour had it Wakatoshi and Satori had been doing this, practicing with and against each other, since they mounted their first toy brooms.

But as much as it seemed like only they ruled the pitch, Eita could see all of his team fighting tooth and nail, Tsutomu and Hana never far behind Wakatoshi in perfect formation, Janine flickering back and forth in front of their goal posts and Hayato and Elsie tirelessly guarding their backs from all angles. The Gryffindor team was a perfectly oiled precision machine - but so were the Slytherins. They may not have had a Chaser line as strong and unforgiving, but Taichi, Sakusa and Waltersen flew in impeccable, almost frightening sync, and Satori was simply impossible to score against. It was like he knew where you’d throw the ball even before you decided.

And then there was Kenjirou, of course.

If you weren’t ceaselessly chasing him, like Eita did, you’d never even see him as he criss-crossed in the sky, and truthfully, Eita couldn’t even imagine how he saw anything, yet alone the tiny, elusive Golden Snitch. But countless Slytherin victories assessed that he in fact did, and all Eita could do was try to keep up and hope for the best.

The game was on for over an hour when Kenjirou suddenly stopped, hovering in the air for a mere second, and then went into a steep dive, Eita setting out for the same direction right away. He could see it now, the Snitch idling lazily just below the stands. If it had eyes, it’d be watching someplace else. Now was the time to strike.

Kenjirou had the advantage of diving in first, but Eita had been a little closer, so they approached almost at the same rate. The world focused itself into the single points of the handle of his broom and the Snitch as he rocketed straight at it - but even so, unconsciously keeping an eye on his peripheral vision had become second nature to Eita in the years of playing Beater, and his senses had been so keenly tuned to the sound of a Bludger that he couldn’t not notice the ball as it came from nowhere, cutting through the air at an improbable speed, straight at Kenjirou.

In that split second, Eita realized many things.

First, that Kenjirou did not see the Bludger at all. Second, that its trajectory would bring it straight into the other Seeker’s broom, the force of the impact most likely shattering wood and bones all the same. And third, that there were no Slytherin Beaters in sight.

He did not realize, however, when and how his body moved. It must have been reflexes - but also a deep conviction overtaking his brain, a rush of adrenaline washing over his body, sharpening his senses and giving him a focus like laser. The Snitch ceased to exist. There was only Kenjirou, and the Bludger coming for him, and Eita throwing himself between them.

And then, there was only darkness.

~*~

The world was slowly coming back to Eita as his senses came alive again, taking in flashes of lights and sounds, whiffs of the overwhelming, unmistakable smell of the Hospital Wing, and pain.

He faintly knew what - who - he’d see when he finally opened his eyes, but once he actually did, he was frankly taken aback by the small mass of people gathered around his bedside.

‘Hey, hey guys, he’s awake!’ someone - Tsutomu - exclaimed, and Eita groaned in pain against the loud intrusion of his sensitive ears.

‘Oh my God, sorry, Eita, they did tell us to keep quiet…’ Tsutomu blabbered, but the rest of what he was going to say was lost as a blur of green and red threw himself at Eita.

‘Eita Semi, you dumb, dumb boy’ Satori shook his head violently as he hugged him tight. It made his heart warm, and his body hurt like hell.

‘Stop that, you’re crushing him’ Taichi scolded, but for once, he made no attempt at masking the relief in his voice.

They were all there, standing around him, their hovering filling Eita both with a sense of relief and of slight claustrophobia. The entire Gryffindor team was there, still in uniforms, so he couldn’t have been out for that long - Tsutomu fiddling with his own fingers, Wakatoshi with his brows furrowed and his mouth set in a thin line, Janine bouncing up and down on her heels nervously, Hana hastily wiping tears from her red cheeks, Hayato, paler than when he’d broken his own arm two years ago, and Elsie, shaking her head, eyes glistening with frustration. But she was still there.

’What the ever-loving fuck, Eita’ she kept murmuring, and while Eita knew he could never get her to understand, he still felt oddly grateful.

There was also Reon, of course, standing quietly with a soothing hand on Wakatoshi’s shoulder. And then there were the Slytherins, his friends, standing together with the Gryffindor team – Satori still on Eita’s bed, having loosened his grip on him but not quite letting go, Taichi smiling widely and rolling his eyes as he saw Eita looking up at him, but...

’Is Kenjirou...?’ Eita asked, taken aback by the raspiness of his own voice.

’Unhurt? Yes. Furious? Also yes’ Satori nodded helpfully, scooting to let Tsutomu sit at Eita’s feet and Reon to also hug him firmly but gently, and Taichi to affectionately bump his fist against Eita’s one shoulder that wasn’t wrapped all up in bandages like a cheap mummy. His neck and the back of his head felt much the same, although he could not see it, only run careful fingers across the soft textile, realizing with a start that whatever injuries he suffered, his head got the worst of it.

’You suffered a concussion, and several broken bones in your shoulder and arm, as well as two broken ribs’ Wakatoshi supplied when he saw Eita taking stock. ’The Madame already fixed the bones, but the muscles and tendons need some more time to rest, so she bandaged you up. And of course you will have to stay overnight and keep taking a potion because of the concussion’ he continued, in the same even tone, as if he was simply reading a grocery list. No, scratch that, Eita would have found more fun in a grocery list read aloud by Wakatoshi than the inventory of his injuries. There was just something innately hilarious about the way he said ’turnip’. In the long years of their friendship, Eita learned to read the subtlest changes in his seemingly neutral voice, and Wakatoshi was everything but calm now.

’Aww, you’ve been worried about me’ Eita smiled first at him and then the rest of them, to which most of his friends all started up talking at the same time again. Even though it was hard to pick out any individual sentences, Eita got the jist of it, namely that he was „insane, an arse, not funny at all, and he should just go straight back unconscious because he was much more likeable when he didn’t talk”. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy and loved.

’Naturally’ Wakatoshi replied, once the others settled down. His mouth was still strictly set, and he stepped away from Reon, closer to Eita, who knew all too well what was coming now that he was out of immediate danger.

‘What you did was reckless and stupid and put you in the way of serious harm, eventually costing us the game. As your captain, I cannot commend you for it. But…’ he stopped with a heavy sigh, and sat down next to Satori, ignoring the pained creak of protest from the bed. ’But as your friend, I’m amazed and grateful and it embarrasses me to admit that I would most likely have not done the same. We should all learn from you, Eita. I’m proud to call you my friend.’

’Ten fucking points to Gryffindor’ Taichi added, high-fiving Eita with a wide grin, and almost everyone burst out laughing. Everyone, except for Hayato, who’d yet to say a single word, which was more unlike himself, than it was unlike Eita to throw himself in the way of stray Bludgers.

‘Aww, thanks, Ushijima, that was real romantic, I always knew you were secretly in love with me…’ he smiled, before clearing his throat.

‘Hey, Yamagata?’ he called out, and it took a second or two before Hayato even realized someone was talking to him. ’Hey, shithead, if you’re doing what I think you’re doing I swear to Merlin that your balls are gone as soon as I’m out of this bed! No, wait, I don’t need to be up, where’s my wand, someone get me my wand...’

’What is it with you and our balls, seriously’ Reon rolled his eyes, but Hayato wasn’t really listening.

’No, I’m being serious’ Eita continued, fixing his gaze on Hayato’s face. ’Not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped that. Look at Elsie, she’s not beating herself up over it, either!’

’Go die in a fire, Semi’ Elsie shot back, but at the same time, she kept rubbing soothing little circles on Hayato’s back. With her snapping at him affectionately, and with Hayato slowly letting down his stiff shoulders, all was starting to return to normal.    

’Hold on for a second... did Wakatoshi just say we lost?’ Eita asked, trying to sit up, slow and painful but determined. Satori and Taichi averted their gazes as they gently pushed him back into the pillows, which in and by itself was answer enough. Janine sighed, patted his feet awkwardly, announced that she was very glad Eita was going to be alright, and then left the Hospital Wing with Elsie and a still hiccuping Hana in tow.

’Kenjirou caught the Snitch just as you went down. He did not realize what was happening until you hit the ground’ Tsutomu finally admitted, after the girls were gone, and even as Eita broke out in a litany of colorful curses, secretly he felt strangely relieved to hear that everything worked out in the end.

~*~

The next time Eita woke up, it was to a throbbing headache and someone sitting next to his bed in the uneasy silence that took over the Hospital Wing at night. 

‘Didn’t think you’d come’ Eita groaned, and Kenjirou jolted in surprise, nearly falling off his chair while blinking rapidly. ‘Wait a second, have you been watching me sleep like a creep?’

‘Nice to see that neither your charming personality nor your high opinion of me had been knocked out of your sorry head’ Kenjirou raised an unimpressed brow. Eita’s mind was foggy either from the concussion or the potion he drank for the concussion, so he couldn’t tell if Kenjirou was angry or just keeping his voice down.

‘I try my best’ Eita shrugged, and then groaned again because he forgot that shrugging hurt.

‘Oh do you?’ Kenjirou’s voice was plain cold now, and Eita held his chin high (high as it would go while laying down) as he thought about comebacks and justifications, bracing for the berating of his life. Which never came.

‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure of startling awake from my sweet, drug-induced dreams to you sleep-creeping at me?‘

‘Good point. I see that you are, in fact, alive, so I’ll just go now.’ And with that, Kenjirou actually got up to leave. None of Eita’s limbs seemed to be in working order, but with great effort, he still managed to reach out and catch the edge of his robe. He had been aiming for his hand, but well, you had to appreciate the small victories.

‘Don’t… You crept through the castle at night, risking precious points and detention… Might as well stay for a while, yeah?’

He did not mean to sound as hopeful and, frankly, pleading as he did, but maybe that’s what got Kenjirou to come to a halt, look back at him incredulously and then slowly nod, so he didn’t mind. Kenjirou gave a quiet, exasperated sigh as he plopped down into the chair, facing Eita but averting his eyes again.

‘You know, you could’ve just come in with everyone else to make sure I was, ”in fact, alive”, or something’ he said, tentatively reaching for Kenjirou’s hand once more, fully prepared that he’d yank it away. He didn’t, and the implications made Eita’s sluggy pulse skyrocket in an instant. It was hard to make out Kenjirou’s expression in the dimness, but Eita’s mind helpfully supplied all missing details - the thin, stubborn set of his lips, the dainty point of his tiny nose, the puzzled narrowing of his eyes, the elegant, high arch of his brows. Not for the first time, it really hit Eita just how handsome Kenjirou really was, and how that never quite absent disdain fit his features, prompting you to constantly strive for his approval.

It was this unintentional fight that used to get on Eita’s nerves all the time, this non-stop battle that Kenjirou fought with life in general. Eita couldn’t possibly fathom why someone could never just take things as they were, why he’d always have to look for that one flaw or shortcoming, that one imperfection that could ruin everything if things turned wrong just the right way. But he found that he didn’t mind anymore. That Kenjirou’s relentless resistance against the easy way was what made him so different, that his dissatisfaction with all things gifted instead of earned stemmed from dissatisfaction with himself, and in that moment he realized that there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to show Kenjirou how he was alright just like he was. How all fights didn’t have to be fought alone, how the constant raging war inside him shone through his calm and indifferent mask, giving him a halo of fierce fire. How he was all the more perfect for it.

‘If I had, I would’ve murdered you with my own two hands’ Kenjirou finally admitted in a voice so small it barely broke the dead silence of the sick ward. He still didn’t look up at Eita, but his grip was cast iron on his fingers now.

‘So you are angry’

‘I am. I was… Now I don’t know anymore. What were you thinking, seriously?’ his head shot up, eyes glaring daggers at Eita, but rather than scared, Eita felt relieved, because finally, finally it was here, out in the open like it was supposed to be, unlike so many other truths that made the air sizzle with tension between the two of them. They may have fought a lot, but never about things that truly mattered.

‘I wasn’t’ he admitted, because that’s just how it was, but also maybe because he really wanted Kenjirou to understand how little choice he had, back in that split second before his body moved on his own.

‘Yeah, right, when are you ever?’

‘No, I’m being real now, Kenjirou. It’s not like I planned it, okay? It’s just… It was coming, right at you, but you weren’t paying attention to anything but that goddamn fucking Snitch and I… it was a reflex. I just forgot that I didn’t have my old protective gear anymore’ Eita explained, trying to push himself up into a sitting position, while growing more and more frantic by the second. Because how could he possibly explain the desperate, deep terror choking him up every time he so much as thought of one of his friends in danger, that overwhelming wave of adrenaline that took over him every time he was actually able to do something about it? Why the hell did they think he aced Defence Against Dark Arts for seven years straight?

‘Reflex… throwing yourself at a deathball flying through the air at sixty miles per hour is a reflex for you…? Dear Heavens you gotta learn some self-preservation, you stupid walking Gryffindor cliché’ Kenjirou huffed, but without any real conviction.

‘Yeah, well, you learn some gratitude, you sour little Slytherin’ Eita retorted, but a smile was creeping in the corners of his lips, because if this was the harshest that Kenjirou had in stock for him, then he wasn’t truly mad after all.

‘Do you think… do I not look thankful?’ Kenjirou asked, taken aback, and his eyes grew comically wide in Eita’s potion-induced haze.

‘Hm, not particularly’ he grinned, realizing too late that Kenjirou was being dead serious. ‘I mean it’s not like I wouldn’t have risked my life for the others, so…’

‘Oh shut up, you didn’t actually risk your life’ Kenjirou shot back, averting his eyes yet again, and Eita just Wasn’t Having It anymore. He felt a burst of honesty swell up in his chest, knocking the air out of him in its hurry to push the next words past his lips, because he never needed anything as desperately in his life as he needed Kenjirou to understand right now.

‘Hey. Hey, stupid, would you look at me?’ he said, squeezing Kenjirou’s hand, waiting for him to meet his eyes again. They shone like dim stars in the darkness, Kenjirou’s beautiful eyes, and Eita was gravitating towards them with no hope of escape. ‘I totally would, okay? For them, and for you too, I swear to Merlin I would. Risk my life and all that. If it makes me a cliché, then you’ve got like two minutes to come up with a joke. But don’t even think for one fucking second that I don’t mean it. That I wouldn't. Even if it wasn’t just a silly little Bludger’

Although Kenjirou was looking at him now, Eita had yet to find the spark of realization in his eyes, and a wave of restlessness washed over him, because after all this, after months of orbiting each other like the most useless little teenage planets, the training together and the not-date, the kiss that none of them mentioned ever again, Kenjirou still just wasn’t getting it, he wasn’t getting how honestly and determinedly Eita meant every spoken and unspoken word, he wasn’t getting just how important he was.

‘Kenjirou.  _ Kenji _ , listen...’ He took a deep breath. The air was filled with the heavy foreboding of a confession. Here was another thing not to be missed: as open as the secret of his crush on Kenjirou was, Eita never actually verbally admitted anything such to him. But now, now was the time, the perfect moment - Eita half-sitting on his creaky infirmary bed, covered in bandages, Kenjirou slumped in an old chair by his head, their hands desperately clinging to each other in their clampy hold, and the benevolent, quiet, all-covering darkness of the empty Hospital Wing shielding them for the intruding eyes of the outside world. Eita held Kenjirou’s gaze openly and without any challenge possibly for the first time ever, and took a deep breath. _ I like you. You can’t not know how much I like you. _

‘I totally would do it again.’

The corners of Kenjirou’s mouth were trembling slightly, but this time he made no real effort to hide his smile. It lit up his entire face, and Eita was a hundred percent sure that there was something very strong in the potion he drank, because he could have sworn that one smile, directed right at him without any snarky remarks, made Kenjirou’s entire face light up like the damn Great Hall at Christmas.

‘I know’ Kenjirou shook his head, and after another long bout of silence, he repeated it again, with more conviction, more feeling than a half-hour full-on shouting match. The sound of his quiet laughter between his words echoed for many more minutes in Eita’s ears.    
‘I know. Now go back to sleep, you idiot.’

~*~

Halls decked with boughs of disgustingly sweet smelling roses in all shades of red – check. A billion pink, scented candles hovering above the tables of the Great Hall – check. Heart-shaped confetti drizzling down from the ceiling like lazy snowflakes – check. Nauseating, soft music creeping through the hallways, much in the same way that Eita currently was – check.

All in all, the whole castle seemed to be ready for the Valentine’s Ball, and also for turning Eita’s stomach inside out. Everything was painfully overboard, impossibly cheesy, sickeningly sweet, and as he crossed the hallways, ducking behind statues and into alcoves every time he heard someone – couples, always couples, how were there this many couples in Hogwarts, how did this even make sense? - Eita couldn’t help but imagine the way Kenjirou would scoff and roll his eyes at all this Valentine’s Day madness. Which made all of what he was up to just the more hilarious. 

He carefully stepped out from behind one tall pillar that fell victim to the attack of the blood-red flowers, and quickly slipped behind the last one separating him from the stairway to the basement, mindful not to let anyone important see him, because, well, he hadn’t been, strictly speaking, cleared to leave the Hospital Wing just yet. The last thing he needed was for the Madame to materialize from thin air and drag him back to bed by his ear. The walk up to Gryffindor Tower to change his clothes, and then all the way back to the basement had been a long and tedious one with the faintly buzzing pain in his shoulder and all the sneaking around, but Eita had a good feeling that it would be worth it.

He hung out with Slytherins enough to find his way around the dark basement corridors, and soon enough, he was standing in front of the bare wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeon. With a mental note to buy a cauldron of Fizzing Whizbees for Satori later, Eita glanced around once more before saying the password, taking a step back as the bricks started to dissolve into a doorway right in front of him. No matter how many times he saw it, it still gave him the chills – fucking nerds and their dramatic flair. 

He entered the dimly lit, tragically decorated common room with his head held high, radiating all the superiority of someone whose house facilities bathed in warm and cheerful reds and golds - and also featured windows.  How did none of these poor bastards get claustrophobic? Eita strolled through the room with long, determined steps, daring the few Slytherin students scattered around in armchairs and on sofas to stop and question him, but nobody really seemed to want to stand in his way. Maybe it was the commanding aura of someone with a clear purpose. Or just the fact that he made himself a name in Duelling Club as the guy who’d Expelliarmus your wand out of your hand before you even realized he’d drawn his. Either way, Eita made it to the sixth year dorm room without any real difficulty and a haughty smile. 

Once there, however, he stopped with one hand hovering in front of the door, unsure whether he shouldn’t be knocking at least, before storming in unannounced; unsure what he’ll do if Kenjiro isn’t alone in there, unsure of what he’ll do if he is. He took a deep breath, riling himself up to snap the fuck out of it, then equipped his best annoying grin, and stepped in after one short knock.

‘Get dressed, Shirabu’ Eita said, in lieu of a greeting, nodding his head at the other boy’s closed trunk. Kenjirou, to his credit, only seemed mildly alarmed at his sudden entrance, raising a questioning eyebrow as he put down the parchment he’d been reading - what was this boy always studying for, really? - and got up from his bed slowly. He was clearly disproving of Eita finding his way into the Slytherin quarters, or maybe just his room specifically, and Eita couldn’t stop a content grin from spreading on his face as he realized that he managed to rattle the little shit.

‘I  _ am  _ dressed’ the little shit in question answered, before he really took in all of Eita - his hair, combed, his collar, pressed, his tie, non-school-issued, his robe, not uniform-black but a softer, richer, deeper purple, clearly tailored to fit him perfectly… Eita was dressed to the nines, at least compared to his usual get-up, and in a rare bout of weakness, Kenjirou’s face displayed a wide range of emotions, from honest surprise to confusion to unmasked interest, coming right back to overwhelming confusion that had him shaking his head. It was downright adorable, and Eita vowed to tease him about it for the rest of their lives, or at least the semester.

‘What the hell, Eita?’ he asked, openly lost, because he wasn’t really keeping back in front of Eita anymore, and Eita just laughed and stepped further into the room. With each step he grew more determined, every inch closer to Kenjirou was another reason to convince him that he was finally doing what he should’ve done forever ago. He did not stop until he was standing right in front of Kenjirou, his heart throbbing in his throat, and only then did he open his mouth to answer, well-rehearsed lines of ‘Would you go to the ball with me’ and ‘Let’s go on a real date’ and ‘Please stop pretending that you don’t know that I like you’ lining up at the tip of his tongue and turning to dry dust before he could speak them. Instead of words, the only thing that came out was a kiss, pressed against the surprised O of Kenjirou’s lips.

It wasn’t like Eita planned to kiss Shirabu - not like this again, not right now, not unceremoniously and out of the blue, in the middle of his room, anyways. He’d planned for more theatrics, the soft fluttering of the thousand scented candles of the Great Hall, slow music in the background and even slower swaying to it, awkwardly at first but quickly forgetting self-consciousness amidst all the couples and soon-to-be-couples of Hogwarts. Or maybe after the ball, on the way back to the Slytherin quarters, where Eita would lead Kenjirou through dimly lit corridors, both of them giddy from holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes all night, and then he’d stop him just before rounding the final corner, and push him gently against the stone wall, one hand behind his shoulder to keep the cold mist away from his warm body, and then stare into his eyes boldly until finally Kenjirou broke and moved in to kiss him first this time...

But as most things about them, neither their first nor their second kiss was to be had under foreseeable circumstances, and when Shirabu didn’t protest, Eita let his plans fly out the nonexistent window, pulling the other boy closer, his waist in his hands, sigh against his lips, white noise in his ears, stars behind his closed eyes, butterflies in every single cell of his body. 

Eita was as self-conscious and nervous as the first time, but everything else was completely different - not just because Kenjirou’s lips weren’t blue from the cold or because he wasn’t expecting a punch in the face any second now. It was different because this wasn’t a first-and-last kiss, this wasn’t a one-time-only affair, a desperate and uncontrollable move to feel, just once, what he couldn’t ever have. 

This time, Kenjirou actually kissed back, clumsily at first, but all the more eager not to let Eita out-kiss him, because of freaking course he had to turn this into a competition. It was amazing. Eita tried fighting back at first, not wanting to give in and let Kenjirou win so easily, but then he realized that he was still the real winner here, and that he didn’t give a fuck anyways, so he just held onto Kenjirou’s waist and let himself be kissed, let Kenjirou’s lips capture his own carelessly but with great hunger until their teeth knocked and their noses pressed together awkwardly, until it was impossible to breathe, until Kenjirou was clutching at his tie to pull him in closer even though there really was nowhere closer to be, until Kenjirou’s back hit the wall and Eita’s fancy stupid dress robe was getting all wrinkled up, until Eita was suffocating but he’d rather that than to let Kenjirou go. It was messy and there never stopped to be teeth and saliva and a great deal of muffled noises, and even though this wasn’t by far Eita’s first, or second kiss, he only just realized now that this was the first one that actually counted.

They kept coming up for air and then diving straight back in, smiling wider after each breath until they finally broke out laughing - Eita himself wasn’t sure why, but Kenjirou was giggling like a madman, and it was so unlike him that he couldn’t help but follow.  

‘What?’ he asked at last, still unable to stop grinning. Kenjirou’s laughter was quite possibly the greatest sound in the entire universe.

‘Nothing’ Kenjirou shook his head, eyes shining with mirth as he slowly calmed down. ‘You… you’re just incredibly, absolutely freaking impossible, Eita Semi. What are you even doing?’

‘ _ I _ am not doing anything.  _ We _ were kissing, and now,  _ we _ are going to the ball, and after that, hopefully,  _ we _ are going to kiss some more. Although next time you could maybe try not just straight-up chewing my mouth off’

‘Oh shut up. If you didn’t like it, we don’t have to do it again. But more importantly, I know you hit your head hard, so I’m just going to be very straightforward: we aren’t. Going. To the ball.’

‘Yes we are’ Eita insisted, before reaching out to gently comb a few strands of stray hair back in place. Kenjirou froze at Eita’s touch for a split second, before allowing himself the simple pleasure of just enjoying Eita’s fingers playing in his hair. ‘I didn’t almost die yesterday and then escape hospital prison today for you to deny me a date.’

‘For all that is holy, Eita, stop saying that you almost died!’ Kenjirou rolled his eyes. Eita thought that all the eye-rolling and the judgemental huffing and the brow-raising were actually becoming part of his charm. 

‘Is that what this is, then? A date?’ 

‘Now why would a nice boy like me go on a date with a menace like you’ Eita teased, taking Kenjirou’s constantly cold, slightly calloused, absolutely dreamy hand again. ‘Yes. A real one. Go big or go home, I’m taking you dancing and every other romantic shit possible. Expect there to be candlelight and about ten thousand red roses, but I’m not sure about dinner. They gotta give us some food, right? Anyhow, I got all dolled up for you, so you better not come in your pajamas…’

‘Like you need a special occasion to be a vain bitch…’ Kenjirou waved even as he stepped to his trunk to start looking for something more presentable than his current attire, which wasn’t, in fact, his pajamas, but close enough.

‘And since when did you?’ Eita snorted, subtly checking out Kenjirou’s butt every time he leaned down.

‘That’s fair, I should’ve seen that coming. Now get the fuck out of here before we end up in detention instead of this ridiculous ball. See you in front of the Common Room. I just gotta tell the Prefects to change the password first…’

‘Ohh, don’t you worry, I’ll figure it out again’ Eita laughed, and if he spotted a bunch of red-and-gold tucked away at the bottom of Kenjirou’s trunk, and if it made his heart nearly jump out from behind his freshly healed ribs, he very wisely chose not to comment on it.

For now.     

 

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: GUESS WHAT THE EVER AMAZING AND TALENTED POSSUMEL ON TUMBLR MADE A FANART OF THE, UHH, PALM LICKING SCENE!!!!   
>  [GO LOOK AT IT GO LOOK AT THIS PERFECTION GO LOOK AT THEIR OTHER DRAWINGS TOO I CAN'T!](https://possumel.tumblr.com/post/171960139151/semishira-drawing-4-for-the-wonderful)
> 
> Sooooo, this has been a wild ride! I hope y'all enjoyed it, especially puff :) I loved working in the HP universe and I loved writing these stupid teenage boys, and I loved all the Shirarotizawa feelz while I was writing, so thank you so much for this prompt!
> 
> I have approximately 2937927 more random HCs in this AU now so if anyone feels like they want to cry over hogwarts haikyuu, feel free to leave a comment or hmu at my tumblr: himchankimchije.  
> As always, a million thanks to everyone sticking with me to the end <3 Kudos and comments are extremely appreciated and loved and cherished till the end of time


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